by Vivi Holt
They finished their games a half-hour later. Molly sat beside Tim with a sigh and rubbed her thigh. “I think I pulled a muscle,” she groaned.
He laughed. “The way you play, I’m not surprised.”
She playfully swatted his arm. “Watch it. I’m sure you think I’m out of shape, Mr. Bulging Muscles, but I’ll have you know I run every day.”
He chuckled. “You do?”
She huffed in that way that made him want to laugh, but he covered it with a cough. “I do. I have a dog, and she makes me go out every day whether I want to or not. I used to walk, but since she got bigger, all she wants to do is run and I don’t have the strength to fight her.”
He bit his lower lip. “I’d pay money to see that.”
She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “You really are a jerk, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “Only on days ending in ‘y’. What kind of dog?”
Her eyes lit up. “Daisy’s a golden Labrador – well, a yellow lab mixed with a golden retriever, which is officially a Goldador, but come on, that name is so Lord of the Rings and no one knows what I’m talking about, so I call her a golden Lab …”
“She sounds great. Labs and retrievers are the best kind of dogs. I had a chocolate Lab for fifteen years, but he died last year.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “We had a good run together. I miss Duke – hiking and camping with him in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I’ll get another dog one day, but I just haven’t had it in me to do that yet.”
“I love dogs.”
“Me too.” He studied her beneath half-lidded eyes. She was different than he’d thought. And she loved dogs, so she couldn’t be all bad. He’d made a point of avoiding relationships with anyone in the media, especially print journalists – they were always so driven, with the desire to “get the story” taking all their attention. But perhaps she could be the woman to make him five hundred dollars and put Callum in his place. It’d be worth it. “So you’re a journalist, then?”
She cocked her head to one side. “Yes, I am.”
“My dad wanted me to do that – the whole newspaper thing – but I didn’t want to get sucked into that world. It seems like it consumes people – at least in my family it does.”
She nodded. “I know what you mean. My grandfather and my father have both given their lives to the Times. Dad still runs the place, my sister is being groomed to take over, and they give almost every waking hour to it.”
“No plans for world domination, then?” he asked, taking another sip of Sprite.
She shook her head. “No. I like being a journalist, chasing down a story and finding the truth, but I hate the office politics. And when the editor – my sister – decides to bury a story, or not follow it up because it doesn’t sell … that really bothers me. So I guess I’m not cut out for the business side. At least that’s what my father thinks, though I know he’s hoping I’ll take over as editor-in-chief when my sister steps into his shoes as CEO …” Her cheeks flushed. “Why am I telling you all this? You’re the enemy – I shouldn’t be sharing business plans with the enemy.”
He laughed. “I’m not the enemy. I don’t have anything to do with my family’s newspaper – my brother does, but not me. I’m a firefighter, nothing more and nothing less.”
“And do you love it? Aside from carrying damsels in distress down flights of stairs?” Her eyes twinkled.
He swallowed hard, glad she was able to joke about it. Maybe she didn’t hate him as much as he’d thought. “Aside from that – yes, I do. It’s a real community – we spend our lives together, then save lives together. It’s pretty fulfilling.”
“That’s nice. I’d love to have that kind of camaraderie with my co-workers, but there’s a lot of competition and backbiting.” She sighed. “I try to stay out of it as much as I can, and being the boss’s daughter, most of them leave me alone. But with the shrinking market for traditional news media, it’s pretty cutthroat.”
He studied his hands, then glanced up at her. Her eyes were on him and a pulse of electricity passed between them. He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Had she felt it too? His face blazed. “You know, this whole feud between our families is ridiculous.”
She cleared her throat and nodded. “I agree – I’ve always thought it was unnecessary. I mean, we can be adults about it, can’t we?”
“I think we can. Do we even know what started it?”
She cocked her head to one side. “Well … I was told your grandfather was jealous when my grandfather left the Chron to start the Times …”
“It was your grandfather who started it!” he spat, his head spinning with a rush of anger. “They were friends and he stole ideas, clients, stories and staff from my grandpa to start his own paper.”
“So he started his own newspaper. It was years ago – your grandfather should put his juvenile jealousy behind him and move on. He’s done enough over the years to make them even – what about all the times he stole advertisers, or told investors my grandfather was going senile?”
“There is no way Grandpa did that!”
“Okay, enough. We’ve heard different stories from two very biased points of view. Didn’t we just agree to be grown-ups about this?”
He nodded and exhaled slowly. “You’re right. Let’s start again. How about we agree not to talk about the feud or whose fault it is because the whole thing is infantile and stupid?”
“Sounds good to me. In fact, let’s be friends. Maybe that way, our families will see how silly their behavior is and they’ll finally put it all behind them.”
Tim pursed his lips and scratched absently at the stubble on his chin. “Well …”
“You don’t think it’s possible to mend fences between our families?”
He shrugged. “Possible? I don’t know. Probable … definitely not.”
She sighed. “I guess you’re right. But it does seem sad to waste so much energy hating each other. And I hate grudges.”
Was it possible? He knew how deeply the friction between the families ran. But their grandfathers had been friends once. Perhaps they could be persuaded to put the rift behind them and make amends. “It might be worth a try.”
“You’d be willing?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
He nodded. “I would. I don’t think it’s healthy to hold a grudge either. I’ve been praying about it for years, actually – I wish they’d all just forgive each other.”
She smiled. “You pray?”
He nodded. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, actually, I do, and I’ve been praying for the exact same thing. So maybe this is our opportunity to do something about it. Maybe this meeting isn’t by chance.”
He smiled at her words. There was a depth to her that was attractive. And stranger things had happened than the two most competitive newspaper families in the history of Atlanta making up. He chewed his lower lip, thinking through what it might take and what the consequences for each of them could be. “They won’t be happy with us, you know. I don’t want to cause trouble for you with your family.”
She grinned. “Oh, I’m used to being in trouble with them.”
“Is that so?” He laughed. “Somehow I can believe that.”
“Thanks a lot! So what are we saying? That we’ll be friends and somehow that will make them face their disagreements with each other?”
He shook his head, thoughts in a whirl. His parents would never make up with the Belugas over a vague friendship between him and Molly Beluga. They’d need more inducement than that. Plus he had a bet to consider. Two birds with one stone? “No, I don’t think a friendship will do it. There has to be more … we could pretend to be dating.”
Her eyes widened.
He shook his head. “It’s a bad idea. Forget it. We’d have to spend a lot of time together and pretend to be in love, and it might cause more conflict rather than less.” There was no way they could pull off something
like that. Still, if they could … it might make a difference. And he could prove Callum wrong in the process. Well, not really, since it wouldn’t be a real relationship, but what Callum didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
She stood and paced, her jeans hugging her shapely legs, then spun to face him, eyes blazing. “A friendship wouldn’t be enough to bring them together … but a wedding might. I’m willing to put in the effort if you are.”
“You want to pretend we’re getting married?” he asked with a frown. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that kind of commitment, fake or not.
She smiled. “Exactly – let’s do it. If we’re engaged, there’s no way they can avoid each other. They’ll have to see each other, eat together, celebrate together. The perfect way to bring our feuding families together is with love.”
Tim chuckled nervously. “When you talk about it, it actually sounds like a good idea – or at least not such a bad one. So okay, let’s do it.”
4
Molly rubbed her eyes, blurring everything for a moment. She stifled a yawn and studied the back of the cereal box. She’d stayed up way too late the night before at the bowling alley. She and Tim had been caught up in a conversation about … well, all kinds of things and nothing in particular.
Her phone buzzed and she picked it up with a frown. Who would call so early in the morning? She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Good morning.”
Tim’s voice set her heart racing. She straightened and tucked a stray strand of hair behind one ear. “Oh, good morning to you.”
“I just wanted to make sure we’re still on the same page with this whole fake-relationship thing.”
“Uh-huh.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Was he really serious about it? She hadn’t been sure when she left the bowling alley. She hadn’t even mentioned it to Vicky, though her friend was already pushing her to date the man. Perhaps they really should go through with it, so she could prove to Vicky once and for all that she was over her ex and ready to welcome the future and not die alone – a dejected spinster, her body eaten by her mischievous Goldador before the mailman could report the smell. She shook her head with a grimace.
And then there was Granddad’s phone call – she’d heard the regret in his voice when he spoke of his time at the Chronicle with Tim’s grandfather. He wanted to make amends with the Holdens, even if he wasn’t willing to come out and say it. She knew it’d put his mind at ease if they were able to resolve their conflict.
“So we’re gonna do it?” asked Tim.
“If you’re up for it, then I am.” What harm could it do? They’d pretend to be engaged. Vicky would finally get off her case about finding a man. Their families would forget their grievances against each other and applaud Molly and Tim’s selfless act in bringing them together. Granddad would be overwhelmed with gratitude for her role in reconciling him to his oldest friend. Just thinking of it almost brought a tear to her eye – they’d be remembered for generations as the couple who brought peace to the Atlanta newspaper community.
“Good. I wasn’t sure you’d still want to go through with it. But the more I think about it, the more I’m sure it’s an answer to prayer.”
“I think so too.” She did – really. It wasn’t healthy the way Granddad and Daddy carried so much anger and bitterness toward the Holdens. Granddad seemed regretful of their differences, but she knew it would take more than a few moments of nostalgia for him to put it all behind him. Perhaps he needed her help to take that step. She was doing it for him, and for her father.
That she’d get to spend more time with Tim Holden was just a bonus. She knew it could never come to anything, but she liked him, liked being with him. Nothing wrong with that, was there? And as Vicky was always telling her, sometimes it was okay to say yes to things, especially when asked by men who looked so good in a pair of jeans.
“Okay, great. I suggest we start out by saying we’re dating. Then if we feel like we need to take it up a notch, we can pretend to be engaged. It’s more likely to have an impact if they think we’re serious.”
She nodded to herself, trying to picture how her parents might react, and her smile faded. They might not be quite as happy as Vicky. “Yeah … that sounds like a plan to me. And if it doesn’t work out, we can just part as friends.”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
They hung up and Molly sat still, musing over their conversation. She smiled, remembering the way he’d spoken so passionately about preservation of the north Georgia woods the previous evening. They had more in common than she could’ve imagined when they’d first met. They both loved animals, especially Labradors, and both felt strongly about taking care of the environment, and they both loved God. Spending time together would be a cinch, and she was certain they could pull off pretending to be in love. It was for the greater good, after all.
“Was that Tim?” asked Vicky with a grin. “And what are you smiling so smugly about?” She slumped in a chair across the kitchen table, poured herself a bowl of Chex, then unplugged her iPad and pressed the power button to turn it on.
“Yes, it was. And I’m not smiling about anything, really – just thinking about last night.”
“Uh-huh,” said Vicky with a wink. “I’ll bet you are.”
“Like you can talk. You and Callum seemed to be awfully cozy over there at the bar.”
Vicky shrugged. “It’s not like that. He’s a great guy with a lot of interesting stories to tell. He’s a private investigator, did you know that?”
Molly shook her head. “I’ll have to keep him in mind in case I need help investigating an article in the future.”
“But what about you and Tim? You didn’t say much on the way home … do you think you’ll see him again?” Vicky took a bite of Chex and flicked through news articles.
“Actually … yes, I think we will.”
“Wonders never cease.”
“You told me to say yes instead of no, and I did. He wants us to spend time together and I agreed.”
Vicky grinned. “Oh, my little girl’s growing up.” She clapped her hands, her eyes shining. “I’m so proud.”
“Okay, okay,” Molly grunted. “No need to be so dramatic – it’s not a big deal.”
Vicky laughed. “I think it is a big deal. He’s the first guy you’ve given half a chance to in two years. Maybe you really are ready to move on.”
“I told you I was.” Her nostrils flared and she crossed her arms. Why did Vicky never seem to believe her? Well, her friend might be right not to, since she and Tim weren’t really seeing each other, but she didn’t know that. And she wouldn’t either, not if Molly could keep it from her. As far as Vicky would know, Molly and Tim were the real deal. Hopefully now she could convince her friend to let her be.
That she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Tim since she saw him at the bowling alley was just the push she needed to go along with his plan. Or was it her plan? She frowned, trying to remember who’d come up with it in the first place.
Vicky’s eyes widened and she coughed hard, spraying Chex and milk across the table.
Molly grimaced. “Ewwww – Vicky, that is disgusting. Are you okay?”
Vicky’s gaze met hers and she reached for a napkin to wipe her mouth. “I’m sorry. I just … have you seen the Chron yet today?”
Molly’s eyes narrowed. “No. Why?”
Vicky slid her iPad across the table, being careful to avoid the trail of milk.
Molly took it and scanned the screen. The browser was open to the society page and there was a large picture of her with Tim at the top of the screen. Her mouth dropped open and she tapped the photo to enlarge it. It had been taken the previous evening at the bowling alley. They looked as though they were snuggling. Her head was thrown back, her mouth wide open in laughter, and he had a grin on his face, his cheeks dimpled. The caption below the image read: Tim Holden and Molly Beluga, out on the town together at the Black and Blue Bowling Alley, North Druid
Hills.
She looked up at Vicky, who’d fetched a dish towel and was mopping up the mess she’d made. She stopped what she was doing to squeeze Molly’s shoulder and offer a half-smile. “It’s not so bad.”
Molly shook her head. “No, not so bad. Though of course they scooped us again.” She chuckled. “And now there’s no chance Momma and Daddy don’t know about us.” She’d wanted to break the news to them herself, and had been running over possible scenarios in her head all morning, dismissing them one by one when she realized just how badly they’d react.
“Us? There’s an ‘us’ now?”
Molly shrugged and her face warmed. “It’s complicated …” On the counter, her cell phone rang, vibrating in a circle on the hard surface. Her heart fell as she hurried to swipe the screen. “Good morning, Momma.”
“Good morning, darling!” Her mother’s voice was high-pitched, the way it always got when she was trying to mask her emotions.
“How are you?” Molly carried her bowl to the sink and rinsed it, the phone between her ear and shoulder. She knew what was coming.
“I’m fine, hon. I want to talk to you about the photo of you in the Chronicle.”
“Oh?”
“You know what I’m talking about – don’t play it cool. You’re dating Tim Holden?”
“Well … yes, I am.”
“Are you trying to kill your father?”
Molly made a face at Vicky who hid her laughter behind a hand. “Yes, Momma, I’m trying to kill Daddy. What do you think? We went bowling – nothing to get worked up over. I’m sorry our photo landed in the paper. I didn’t even see a photographer at the alley …”
“Well, I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Come on, Momma, it’s not so bad, is it?”
“Not so bad? You haven’t had a date in two years, and all of a sudden you’re being photographed around town with the one man who could destroy your father’s business and everything he’s built, not to mention your grandfather before him.”
